


Supernatural One Shots

by livin_in_my_head_2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, SPN - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-03 17:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10971678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livin_in_my_head_2/pseuds/livin_in_my_head_2
Summary: A collection of "Supernatural" one shots! (As of right now, they will all be centered around Destiel)





	1. Welcome

Welcome! I'm glad you've chosen to stop by my book :)

Like the description says, this will be a collection of "Supernatural" one-shots.

Oh, who are we kidding? This will be a collection of DESTIEL one-shots.

If there are any segments NOT dedicated to Destiel, I'll put a note in the beginning. Otherwise, just assume that there's gonna be a lot of gayness in the best way possible. (Note: I do not write smut. I may indulge in reading it occasionally, but I do not write it. Maybe someday, but for now, I'm keeping my stuff PG-13 at the most.)

Okay, I'm pretty sure that about does it. I hope you enjoy! :)


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean (Dad) and Castiel (Father) are married and have a child.
> 
> While Cas is out working, Dean has a nightmare.

Joanna sleepily opened her eyes, confused at first as to what had woken her. The six-year-old listened carefully, but the sound did not come again for several seconds. When it did, however, she recognized it immediately.

"No, not Sammy" muttered her dad. Then, louder: "No, please!"

Yawning, Jo waited for the hushed murmurings from Father that always followed these night pleas. Then she remembered - Father was out working. He hadn't told her what job it was this time, just that it was important. Whatever it was, it meant that Jo was alone in the house with her dad. Yawning again, she swung her legs out of bed and stood slowly, gripping Bear close to her chest as she walked from her room and into the hallway. She followed the cries and pleas coming from Dad down the hallway, stopping in front of his bedroom door. Father always told her not to worry when Dad had nightmares, even when what he said frightened her. Father always said to let him handle it. But Father wasn't here, and Jo wanted to help Dad.

Nervously, she pushed open the door to her parents' bedroom. Inside, she could see even in the dim light that one side of the bed was empty, while the other held her writhing dad. She padded softly across the carpet, stopping just next to his bed, burying her lower face in Bear as she watched Dad with wide eyes.

He had the covers twisted around his legs, and his face was tight with whatever pain his nightmare held. Jo hated seeing her usually brave, strong dad like this. What did Father do when Dad got like this? He pressed two fingers to his forehead...Jo would have to try it.

Hesitantly, she reached out two fingers and tapped Dad's forehead lightly.

Faster than Jo would have thought possible, Dad's eyes snapped awake and his hand flew up to grab her wrist. She gasped, too shocked to otherwise react as Dad flipped her onto her back on the bed. All of the air was forced from her lungs and she lay in stunned silence for a second, terrified.

Understanding dawned on Dad's face as he loomed over his young daughter. Regret was soon to follow. "Oh, Jo," he muttered, reaching out to his daughter. She flinched away, still scared speechless. Her dad looked close to tears.

"I told Cas getting a kid was a bad idea," he muttered, and Jo felt the words like knives in her heart. Did Dad not love her? What was going on? Why had he hurt her?

"I was having a nightmare, sweetie," Dad explained. "I didn't know it was you. I thought you were...someone else."

"Oh." Jo was able to catch her breath now. She drew her knees up to her chest and stared at her dad, still quiet.

"I promise I won't - " Dad stopped as if he didn't want to make the promise that he wouldn't do it again. "In the future, if you hear me, I want you to stay in your room or - or call Cas - Father, okay?"

Jo nodded soundlessly.

"Hey, come here." Dad reached out slowly and this time, Jo didn't rebuff the attempt. She readily crawled into his lap, snuggling against his chest and turning her face into his shirt, drinking in his comforting aroma. Dad kissed her head softly and rocked back and forth slowly.

"You wanna sleep in here tonight?" he whispered. Jo nodded, and he eased them both backward until he was lying down, Jo curled on top of him. She rolled off of him and snuggled into his side, sticking her thumb in her mouth.

"Hey, now," Dad said softly, pulling her hand down. "Don't do that. It'll screw up - I mean mess up - your teeth."

"Okay." Jo sighed comfortably as Dad threw an arm around her to hug her close. "Dad?"

"What, Jo?" Dad asked, glancing down at her as he pulled the blankets over both of them. Wordlessly, Jo lifted up Bear.

"He helps me not have nightmares," she explained helpfully, shaking him slightly.

Dad laughed, although Jo wasn't sure what he found funny about her offer. "That's okay, sweetie. I'll be okay." He kissed the top of her head again and adjusted his body slightly so he was turned into her, just as she was with him.

There, in the comfort of her dad's arms, Jo slipped back into a dreamless slumber.

*

Hours later, a battered Castiel trudged into the room. He stopped short when he saw his husband and daughter curled together, both fast asleep. Dean's arms were around her protectively, even in unconsciousness.

Smiling softly, Castiel pulled off his trenchcoat, throwing it carelessly to the ground. He headed into the bathroom and rinsed off the dried blood on his face and forearms. It had been another successful hunt. Each victory was even more rewarding now that he knew he had a family to return to.

As gently as he could, he eased into bed next to Dean and Jo. Despite his best efforts, however, Dean still woke up, blinking blearily at the angel.

"I told you that you'd make a wonderful father, hunter," Castiel whispered fondly. Dean smiled, and Castiel leaned forward, kissing him gently and lingeringly. When he finally pulled away, he settled into his pillow, positioning his body so Jo was sandwiched between himself and Dean. The child smiled in her sleep and curled into a tighter ball.

Yes, thought Castiel reflectively. Victories were far more rewarding with a husband and daughter to return to.


	3. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's true desires are revealed during what he thinks is a dream.

It had been one hell of a day.

Castiel sipped the beer that he had found in the fridge and tried to decide whether or not he actually wanted to be drinking it. Shrugging, he downed the remainder of it in one go and fell back against the motel couch cushions, knowing that if he was human, he would be exhausted. As it was, he was merely...worn out. Yes, that was the best way to describe it.

While a nest of vampires was no longer anywhere near the top of the Winchesters' "hardest shit to deal with" list, it was not a picnic by any stretch. Dean had even gotten a concussion, but that had been easily remedied. Castiel had fixed far worse injuries with ease.

He glanced toward the door of the bedroom in which Dean was fast asleep. This motel was a strangely large one, although not fancy by any means - while it had one bed in the main room, it also had a tiny bedroom that was really only big enough for a bed. All three men could touch the ceiling effortlessly while standing flat-footed on the floor of this closet-like bedroom.

Standing up, Castiel set the empty beer bottle on the coffee table and strode over to the bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and surveying Dean's sleeping form with more than a touch of fondness. How many years now had he known the man?

And each mission, each hunt, had only worked to further solidify Castiel's love for the hunter.

A strange, flitting thought crossed Castiel's mind. What would it be like to sleep next to Dean? Not in a sexual way - he wasn't sure he was ready for that - but just to be near him, both of them in a world of their own dreams, content to simply be near one another. Castiel had watched movies since traveling to Earth. He understood this was what couples did effortlessly.

But then, he and Dean were not a couple, no matter how much he would like them to be.

He wondered, though.

Almost without thinking about it, Castiel had taken several steps into the room. He sighed, still watching Dean. The hunter moved suddenly, and Castiel almost teleported away in his shock. But the hunter was simply turning so that his back faced the door. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief.

Hesitantly, hardly believing that he was daring to do this, Castiel eased himself down so he was lying next to Dean. He lay stiffly on his back, the springs of the motel mattress biting into his skin uncomfortably, even through his trenchcoat.

"What do humans find so appealing about this?" he wondered silently. After a long day of hunting, Dean and Sam always acted like lying down on these uncomfortable beds and achieving unconsciousness was the best prize in the world. Castiel couldn't understand it at all.

Suddenly, Dean rolled back to face him. He opened his eyes sleepily. Castiel froze, terrified. What would the hunter think of this?

Rather than demand for Castiel to leave or ask what the hell the angel thought he was doing, a sleepy smile spread over Dean's lips. "Cas," he murmured, snuggling up to the angel.

Castiel's mind was working overtime, trying to understand what was happening. Did Dean even realize he was awake? He doubted it. The brusque hunter usually rebuffed any show of affection other than relieved hugs at the end of a particularly harrowing mission, so Castiel was fairly certain that Dean was under the impression that he was dreaming.

This posed a new dilemma. Should Castiel wake him? He was about to prod Dean's shoulder when the hunter let out a contented sigh, and Castiel's heart sped up. Just this once, he was going to allow himself to be happy. He turned carefully onto his side, hugging Dean to his chest. The hunter complied without a single complaint.

They lay like this for several minutes before Dean moved his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Castiel's collarbone. The spot where his lips met the angel's skin felt like it was on fire, and Castiel stiffened.

Dean continued to kiss his collarbone, working his way up his neck and to his jawline. Castiel tightened his grip on the hunter, his heart speeding up until he was sure Dean could feel it through their shirts.

The hunter's green eyes met his, full of love and trust. The strong emotions staggered Castiel - did the hunter truly feel this way about him, want to be doing this, or was this all a product of the sleep-induced hallucinations that humans experienced? Castiel had no way of knowing. All he knew was that right now, he and Dean wanted the exact same things.

Without hesitation, Castiel bent down and kissed the hunter.

He gasped at the feeling of Dean's lips on his. This couldn't be real. He couldn't be this lucky.

All he knew was the here and the now. He melted into Dean, who groaned slightly against his lips. Castiel just kissed him harder, sighing happily. He ran his hands through Dean's hair, loving the way it made the hunter shiver into him.

Finally, gasping, the angel and the hunter pulled away from each other. Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and he slipped back into sleep. Castiel surrendered his mind to the whirlwind of thoughts and simply held the hunter as he slept.

Hours later, Dean yawned, slowly waking. Castiel had a moment of panic - should he pull away from the hunter? Pretend nothing had ever happened?

As paralyzed as he was by indecision, he didn't move in time. Dean opened his eyes and froze when he found himself staring at Castiel's chest. Slowly, his eyes traveled upwards and met the angel's gaze.

"Am I dreaming?" he whispered uncertainly.

Castiel sighed, closing his eyes and preparing himself for it to all be over. "No. And earlier - that wasn't a dream, either."

As if on impulse, Dean flew out of bed, staring at Castiel from across the room, although it wasn't that large. He ran a hand over his face, then, seemingly unconciously, brought a hand up to touch his lips. "Cas, I am so sorry," he started.

Castiel's heart dropped. He sat up, twisting the bedcovers in his hands and staring down at them. "So," he said quietly, "you didn't..."

"Didn't /what?/"

"Want that?"

Dean was silent and Castiel cursed himself. He had misread the situation. Perhaps Dean had never actually said his name and it had just been wishful thinking. Perhaps the hunter had been dreaming of a woman in his bed rather than the angel.

Perhaps Castiel had sorely overstepped his boundaries.

"Cas," Dean said. Then, impatiently, "Cas, /look/ at me."

Reluctantly, Castiel raised his gaze from the bed and met Dean's. The hunter's forehead was creased and his arms were crossed.

Slowly, Dean took a step forward, which took him to the edge of the bed. Castiel stared up at him, heart beating quickly, awaiting furious words and denials that there had been anything between them.

Dean grimaced, pursed his lips, and dropped his gaze to the floor. Then, he raised his eyes, his expression genuine and vulnerable. "That was the best dream I've ever had," he told Cas, his voce low.

It was Castiel's turn to furrow his brow. "What?" The hunter couldn't have meant that.

Dean swooped down and kissed Castiel. The angel drew back in shock, but as Dean started to do the same, he grabbed the hunter's shirt, pulling him closer.

Dean wrapped his legs around the angel's waist, his hands snaking under the man's trenchcoat. Castiel was smiling so widely that he almost couldn't kiss Dean. Finally, he pulled back, resting his forehead against Dean's.

Dean laughed slightly, as if he couldn't believe what he had just done. "Wow," he muttered.

"Agreed," Castiel said, wholly unsure of the protocol of post-kissing. He had kissed people before - women - but there had always been something to do immediately after, such as a hunt. Deciding to be honest, he admitted, "I'm not sure what the protocol here is."

"Me, neither," Dean replied. "This is totally new territory for me, too."

There was a knock at the bedroom door and Dean and Castiel only had enough time to draw apart slightly before Sam entered, his eyes widening at the sight of them.

There was an incredibly awkward silence for about three seconds. "Sammy - " Dean said warningly.

A slow smile spread over Sam's face and he pointed an accusing finger at the two of them. "/I knew it,/" he hissed triumphantly.


	4. Castiel's Thought Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during the time that Cas was staying in the bunker BEFORE Dean told him to leave, but none of that or any plot lines from the show affect this fanfic. There are no (major) spoilers! // Hey guys! I got inspired for this at midnight this morning, so idk if it's any good. This is certainly the most risque thing I've written (did I use that word right??), but the words just kind of flowed, so it felt natural! Tell me what you think down in the comments :)

Castiel lay on his back on Dean's bed, staring at the bedroom ceiling. Seeing as he was just visiting the bunker and wasn't settled in yet, he didn't have a room of his own. He was getting rather drowsy, though, seeing as it was getting later in the evening, so he had headed into Dean's bedroom to ask if they could share a bed for the night, only to find the hunter gone.

For some reason, the thought of sharing a bed with Dean, while it was simple enough, made a strange emotion course through him, red-hot. Castiel had felt something similar while having sex with April...but that couldn't be right. He liked women, not men, and certainly not Dean Winchester...right?

Castiel heard a slight noise from the open doorway and lifted his head to find Dean watching him with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. He was leaning against the door-frame, arms crossed. The ex-angel propped himself up on his forearms, trying not to betray what he had been thinking about. "Hello, Dean."

Dean said nothing, holding strangely still as he stared at Castiel. Suddenly, he uncrossed his arms, swung the door shut, and strode across the room in one fluid movement. Before Castiel could comprehend what was happening, Dean had lowered himself onto the ex-angel and was kissing him roughly.

Castiel's eyes widened in pure shock. He held completely still underneath Dean. This was much different than when he had kissed April - much. Why? What was different about this?

He knew. He had known for years and had just been too frightened of his own emotions to face the truth, even to himself.

Castiel, a graceless angel cast from Heaven, was in love with a human - Dean Winchester.

Dean's right knee was in between Castiel's legs. His fingers explored the hem of the ex-angel's shirt, and when his hands slipped underneath, Castiel let out a slight gasp and squeezed his eyes shut. He grabbed at Dean's hips to pull the hunter closer to him. Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat at the furthered contact and Castiel kissed the hunter harder.

The kiss was fast, rough, sudden. Dean's hands explored Castiel's torso underneath his shirt, roaming over his muscles and delicately playing over his lingering bruises from April's abuse. Castiel arched his body into Dean's, shaking ever so slightly with the waves of emotion mercilessly pummeling him.

When Dean finally pulled away, both men were left panting. The hunter pressed his forehead to Castiel's, gasping for air. The ex-angel did the same, staring into Dean's bright green eyes.

"I - I was going to ask if we could share a bed tonight," he explained to Dean breathlessly, realizing what that implied and wanting it more than anything he had ever desired.

Dean nodded, his eyes glazed over slightly. "That works." Then, he bent his head and kissed Castiel once more.


	5. Dean's Though Process

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's thought process in regards to the last chapter. Ends when the last chapter begins.

Dean paced the floor of the bunker's main room, running his hands through his hair periodically as he worked through, fought back against the emotions raging within him. Sam and Kevin were out shopping for some groceries, leaving Dean and Castiel alone in the bunker. And the former was struggling.

For years, he had been denying that he felt anything for the angel other than platonic friendship. Now, however, that Cas would be living in the bunker with them, Dean couldn't deny /it/ anymore. He just couldn't. He would go crazy if he had to breathe, eat, /live/ in the same area as Castiel without acknowledging what he felt.

/I have to tell him,/ Dean realized, a numbing feeling washing over him. /I have to tell him how I feel./ Feeling more terrified than he had in years, if ever, Dean turned, deciding to stop in his bedroom first to further think things over. He walked down the hallway and turned into his room.

He froze in the doorway.

Cas was lying on Dean's bed, staring up at the ceiling. He looked calm, relaxed. Happy. Dean could feel his heart beating faster.

Suddenly, Cas raised his gaze and saw Dean. He smiled, that adorable little smile that always made Dean's stomach feel a little unsteady. "Hello, Dean," the angel greeted the hunter.

/Maybe God's not real,/ Dean thought, /but this sure as hell looks like a sign./ He crossed the room, lowered himself onto the bed, and kissed Cas fiercely.


	6. "Meta Fiction," 34:44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken from 9x18 "Meta Fiction" around 34:44. From Castiel's POV.

"What's honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?" Castiel muttered, thoroughly confused as he stared at the "honor bar" before him.

"Everything," Dean's low voice answered him through the phone.

Castiel couldn't stop the slow smile that spread over his face at the sound of the man's voice, even though he didn't fully understand the joke - if there was one. "How are you, Dean?" he asked, his voice slightly wistful. He missed the Winchesters, but Dean most of all. He wasn't sure why, exactly, but it made him feel instantly better to hear the hunter's voice.

There was a pause before Dean replied, "I'm fine, Cas, how 'bout you?" He had that strange tone of voice that he sometimes got with Cas - strangely macho, as if he was hiding some other emotion underneath.

"I miss my wings," Castiel told him truthfully. Even if the hunter had never had the angelic powers, he was sure to understand what it felt like to miss something - he had lost enough. 

Cas knew Sam was listening to their conversation as well, but the angel decided to pretend - pretend that he was talking only with Dean. "Life on the road..." He glanced around his dingy, dark motel room. "Smells."

A small "hm" of agreement came through the phone and Castiel sighed happily. He didn't know /what/ it was about speaking with Dean, but it never failed to lift his spirits, even if the conversation was dire.

Finally, Sam broke in once more, obviously done listening to matters not concerning the problem at hand. "Listen, I got a match."

Cas frowned. He enjoyed Sam's presence as well, but his feelings towards Dean were .../different./ He couldn't stop the spread of disappointment that blanketed him at the realization that his conversation with the older brother was over.

But he had a mission to focus on. He had to discover what the angel siren was and how to stop it.

He couldn't worry about the husky-voiced hunter with the bright green eyes, not right now.


	7. Cas's Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm shit at explaining why Cas and the Winchesters find themselves in certain situations. Bear with me.

Even after all of these years, it was still unnerving for an angel to suddenly appear in Dean's bedroom.

The latter man sat bolt upright, jolted out of his nap by the slight rustling sound that had momentarily filled the room. He jumped once more at the sight of Castiel standing at the foot of his bed. His eyes widened the longer he stared. "Cas...your...your..."

"My wings are showing, yes," the angel interrupted him impatiently. "I need your help to hide them."

"Why are they...showing?" Dean demanded, standing.

"I don't know," Cas replied desperately. "They just appeared as I was walking down the street and people began to whisper about me, so I came here." The look in his eyes was so pleading...

"We'll do everything we can to help, of course, Cas," Dean told the angel, "but I've never heard of anything like this."

"Nor have I."

Dean walked a couple of paces to stand in front of his friend. Cas's wings were spread ever so slightly. Their feathers were dark and long. They were gorgeous, and just a bit intimidating. "These are awesome," Dean muttered with a grin, impulsively reaching out to touch the feathers. They were incredibly soft, so soft that he found he didn't want to remove his hand. He didn't, however, miss how Cas's jaw had clenched at his touch.

"Cas, what's wrong?" he asked.

"My wings are...sensitive," the angel replied.

"Does it hurt?" Dean asked worriedly, prepared to remove his hand if the answer was in the affirmative. Castiel shook his head, however.

"My wings are not sensitive...in a negative way," Cas replied haltingly. Dean's eyes widened. He was fairly convinced that he knew what the angel meant, but he found that that didn't stop him from gliding his hand over the wing. Cas sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and the hunter found his heart speeding up. He stared at the angel, who was looking at the ground with a lidded gaze, as he raised his other hand, placed it on the angel's other wing, and stroked this one as well.

Cas's breathing became quick and short, and it took all of Dean's self control not to kiss him. He couldn't seem to stop himself from his current actions, however. He continued to pet the downy soft wings. Everything was spiraling out of his control very quickly - emotions that he had spent years holding back were battering his mind and body. He could not fight them for long.

Suddenly, without warning, Cas lunged forward and kissed Dean. The hunter leaned backwards, letting out a muffled cry of surprise, but immediately after, leaned forward, deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the angel's wings, toying with the feathers. Cas pressed himself into Dean, shivering. The latter grinned against the former's lips, stroking up and down his wings.

Castiel continued to shiver, soon heavily leaning on Dean as his own legs refused to support his weight. Gently, Dean guided both of them into a sitting position. From there, the men both lay down on the bed, Dean propped above Cas. A small part of his brain cried out against this, warned him that this was taking it /way/ too far, but as Cas spread his wings over the bedspread and Dean's hands were inevitably drawn back to their soft texture, everything in his body screamed at him to continue.

Soon, Cas broke away from Dean, gasping desperately for breath. "Dean..." he groaned, his head arcing back, and the hunter almost came apart. He pressed kisses all over Cas's cheek and jawbones, quickly moving down to Cas's neck as the angel wrapped his arms around Dean's.

He pulled back from Castiel slightly, staring into the man's dark eyes. "I like the wings," he said breathlessly.

Cas nodded. "So do I," he panted, pulling Dean's head back down to connect their lips once more.


	8. Evil!Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after, what, months of silence?! Sorry about that...
> 
> Dean is infected with something that strengthens his emotions and makes him pretty evil. Basically Soulless!Sam but with too much soul, if you get what I mean.
> 
> As always, I hate explaining how situations came to be, so take it with a grain of salt :)
> 
> Also, as this is me getting back into fanfic writing after I've been working purely on original content AND experiencing writer's block, it's not very long.

Castiel grimaced as he gave yet another experimental tug on the chains tugging his arms above his head, at the shackles pinning his ankles to the wall. He couldn't believe how easily Dean had been able to overpower him - whatever darkness was festering within the man, it had made him stronger than an angel. It didn't bode well for anyone involved - but more immediately, it didn't bode well for Castiel, who truly didn't know what his friend was capable of in this state.

Dean walked into the circle of light from the one flickering fluorescent overhead. He was twiddling a knife, running the flat part of the blade over his index finger before flipping it over and repeating the process. His eyes flashed with something...not entirely human. A slow smirk spread across his face at the sight of the chained angel.

"Dean," Castiel tried. Dean's smile widened. "You don't have to do this."

"You don't even know what I'm going to do," Dean pointed out innocently, his tongue flicking out of the corner of his mouth teasingly.

"You're holding a knife. I can think of a few things."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Cas." Dean stopped his already unhurried walk towards the angel and reconsidered. "Too badly, anyway."

"Sam will stop you - "

"Sammy's a hundred miles away on a wild goose hunt. Nobody's disturbing us for a while." There was some terribly twisted underlying current to the way Dean said the words that made Castiel's blood run cold. He stopped struggling and pressed his back into the wood, attempting to get as far away from Dean as possible as the man continued pacing closer and closer.

He stopped a few inches from Castiel's face. "How long have we known each other?" he murmured softly, considering.

"Nearly a decade. Dean, /please./"

"And in all that time, I've never told you."

"Told me what?" Castiel just wanted this to be over. Problems with the Winchesters always eventually got resolved, for better or worse. Dean had walked dark roads before, and either Castiel or his brother had always managed to drag him back. This time would be no different. But for now, all Castiel could focus on was the familiar green in the hunter's strangely flinty eyes.

"That I love you."

The words felt like the man had stabbed Castiel with the dagger he had finally stopped toying with. They were what he had secretly wanted, /needed/, to hear for so long, but not like this. He didn't want this to happen now, here, with Dean not in his right mind.

"Dean - "

Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's, firm and unyielding. For the first couple of seconds, the angel recoiled from the kiss, as much as he wanted it. Then he gave in and leaned into Dean as far as his restraints would allow him, kissing the man back.

Dean pulled away far too soon. Castiel raised his gaze to the wall above Dean's head, not wanting to look at him, gasping for air.

His friend - friend? Were they friends now? What /were/ they? - raised the dagger, and Castiel waited for the steel to bite into his chest.

Dean drove it into the wood directly next to his head, making the angel flinch but not physically harming him.

"I love you, and I've been too much of a damn coward to say anything about it." The hunter sounded disgusted with himself, as though he was somehow a great failure, as though he was talking about himself from an outsider's point of view. "I've wasted nearly ten years of my life pining over you."

The word "wasted" rang painfully in Castiel's ears. "Just let me go," he ground out.

"Not yet. I'm not done with you yet," Dean murmured. He leaned in and kissed Castiel again, this time raising his hands to run them through the angel's hair. Castiel growled and leaned into the kiss.

There was something wrong with Dean, but the intoxicating taste of his lips, the stubble brushing the angel's chin, drowned out all of those concerns.


	9. Drunken Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need help with thinking of title names that aren't sexually suggestive...also, sorry a lot doesn't happen in this one, I literally wrote it in fifteen minutes and was slightly pressed for time.

Castiel ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his face into his hands, sighing. He had wanted to find a case for the Winchesters to work on - figured a distraction right now could really help the brothers - but couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to work the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He had finally managed to turn it on, but now there were so many bright, unlabeled icons that he was resorted to methodically clicking through each and every one of them, not even sure what the correct one would look like.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at his motel room door. He stood and crossed the room, knowing that it could only be either Dean on Sam, since only they knew his location.

Upon swinging the door open, he found that he had been correct: it was Dean.

The man fell forward and Castiel just managed to catch him in time, alarm flaring. Dean wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck and stared up at him. His eyes were glazed and on his breath...

Alcohol. The hunter was drunk.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean slurred, grinning dazedly.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel muttered, glancing over the hunter’s head to the night outside. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you doing?” he asked after a moment. Dean seemed to be perfectly content remaining like this, with him mostly leaning on the angel for support, his head buried into his chest, but Cas could clearly remember all of the lectures he himself had received from this very man on personal space. Dean seemed to have forgotten all of them.

The hunter just straightened up, sighed, and staggered further into the motel room. Castiel swung the door shut and secured the locks on it once more.

He turned around to find that his friend had collapsed on the couch. His eyes were delicately closed and his head was leaned back. Castiel watched the muscles in Dean's throat move as he swallowed and tried to stop the hot flash of /something/ that shot through him at the sight.

“Dean?” he asked uncertainly, moving to sit next to his friend.

Without warning, Dean scooted across the couch and curled into Castiel’s side. The angel froze. He had thought that the hunter’s original physical contact had been purely accidental, the product of one too many shots. Had Dean’s drunken embrace been intentional, as this obviously was?

“I thought I was supposed to give you personal space,” he murmured uncertainly. He still felt as though he was doing something wrong...but then why did this feel so nice, feeling Dean’s micro-movements as he adjusted and the expansion of his chest as he gently breathed in?

“That’s just around Sam,” Dean reassured him, the edges of his words still made blurry by alcohol. He rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder, then turned his face towards his neck. The angel felt the hunter’s hot breath on his skin and with it, goosebumps that raced up and down his arms.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was instantly silenced when Dean pressed a kiss to his neck. He remained utterly still as Dean’s lips lingered and began slowly tracing their way towards his jawbone. It was a gentle, lazy gesture, but Castiel was instantaneously bombarded by a million strange emotions.

Dean kissed his jawbone, began moving towards his lips and Castiel could feel his heart pounding wildly with desire. He wanted this, wanted it more than anything in the world -

“Dean, /stop./” In a tremendous display of willpower, Castiel pushed the hunter away from him. Dean looked up at him with large, hurt eyes.

“You’re intoxicated,” the angel explained, already mentally kicking himself for stopping things. “Doing.../that/ would be taking advantage of you.”

“But I want this,” Dean replied, his tone almost whining. Castiel believed him, and he wanted this as well - but not under these circumstances.

“If you still want it when you’re sober...” Castiel trailed off. What would happen then? He wasn’t even sure.

Dean sighed after a few seconds and snuggled against him once more, too drunk for his feelings to truly be hurt. Within the next few minutes, Castiel heard his breathing level out and felt him relax into his side even further. He was fast asleep.

With the morning would come fragmented memories of tonight, with only Castiel to awkward put the pieces together.

That was a problem for tomorrow, however, and one that the angel hoped would end going down the same path as tonight had - with slightly different results, of course.

For now, however, he was content to just hold Dean and come to terms with all of this.


	10. Collection of REALLY short shorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of these might literally only be a few sentences. They're all based off of Tumblr posts/prompts for Destiel specificially, so you might see variations of them floating around.

**Baby**

All three men were breathing heavily, standing in the middle of the carnage they had wrought. It had been a particularly nasty vampire nest, but they had gotten through it. They always did.

Dean was the first to move, turning to the angel beside him. "Cas, baby, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Cas replied, staring down at a vampire whose head was lying several feet away. Then, he stiffened and turned slowly to Dean, his brow furrowing in utter, adorable confusion. Sam turned to Dean as well.

"Did you just...?"

"What?" Dean asked, confused. Then, he realized.

"Oh - wait, no - I meant  _buddy_ \- "

Sam snorted, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, right."

"Shut up," Dean muttered, but his face was burning. He couldn't believe himself - how could he have slipped like that? Cas would know, Cas would figure it out, years of careful concealment was undone in those few seconds...Dean could feel himself descending into panic.

He saw Sam and Cas exchange a look out of the corners of his eyes. "I'll go wait in the car," Sam suddenly said, turning and leaving before anyone could say anything else.

"Wait for what?" Dean asked, but before he could fully get the words out, Cas's lips were on his.

It wasn't how he had imagined their first kiss, but it was everything he had ever wanted.

**Sweatshirt**

Cas should never have discovered sweatshirts.

At first, when the angel would ask for money, he would claim that it was for grocery shopping. When he kept returning without anything but bags of sweatshirts, though, Dean and Sam began to get suspicious. They stopped giving him money, which resulted in Cas  _stealing_ the sweatshirts...so they had been forced to give into his weird obsession.

The best ones were plain, solid-color. Some, however, made Dean want to vomit. There was the fuzzy orange one...the rainbow one...then there was the bedazzled one with "hello" written on the back in purple sequins that had literally made Sam choke on his coffee the morning that Cas showed up wearing it.

By now, Dean was sure he had seen it all. So he was completely taken off-guard when, one morning, Cas walked into the kitchen wearing...

 _Dean_ _'s_ sweatshirt.

Dean lowered his coffee slowly to the table, taking it in. The sweatshirt was just too big on Cas, hanging down a little too low. It was dark and simple, and as Cas grinned sheepishly, ruffling a hand through his bedhead, he used his free hand to pull it closer around himself.

"I apologize, Dean. I went through your closet because I remembered seeing you wear this sweatshirt and I - it's quite nice, actually, it's very soft - "

Dean stood, strode across the kitchen, and pushed Cas against the wall, kissing him without abandon. Cas made a small surprised noise, but pressed himself closer to Dean, twining his fingers in his hair.

Dean cupped Cas's face gently in his hands, savoring his taste, how perfectly they seemed to fit together. Finally, he pulled away, not completely sure that he wasn't still asleep and trapped in the best dream of his life.

"So...does that mean I can wear the sweatshirt?" Cas asked slowly, a smile spreading over his face.

"Hell, man," Dean replied, laughing and pressing another lingering kiss on his lips, "you can keep it."

**Wisdom Teeth**

 

When Dean and Sam finally returned, Cas stood from his seat warily. Sam had warned him that Dean would be acting odd after the procedure. He still didn't entirely understand why humans grew the way they did - why would they have extra teeth grow in when they no longer had space or need for them? And why were they called  _wisdom_ teeth?

Well, Dean had had to have his removed, and Sam had driven him, so Cas had lurked at home for a while, wondering what exactly "odd" entailed.

Now, Dean was clattering down the staircase. He grinned at the sight of Cas. "My favorite angel!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. Then, he hurried across the room to stand in front of Cas. "Hey, check this out." He extended his forearm.

Cas stared at it in confusion. "That's your arm, Dean."

"No,  _look!_ " Dean pointed to one of his freckles, then another, then another. "Look how many dots I have!"

"They're freckles," Cas explained uncertainly. "You've had them your whole life."

" _Wild_ , man." Dean grinned. He was standing strangely close to Cas, despite having lectured him more than once on personal space.

"Some people say that freckles are angel kisses," Sam volunteered from the back of the room. When Cas shot him a death stare, Sam just grinned and shot him a thumbs-up.

"Angel kisses? Are they from  _you?_ " Dean demanded of Cas, tracing a line up his arm to his shoulder, where he rolled up his short sleeve to watch the freckles continue onto his chest. He pulled up his shirt to check his stomach and Cas took a step back in his shock. He tried to keep his eyes off of the muscled expanse of skin that Dean was currently examining, but he found it increasingly difficult.

"They're not from me, Dean."

"Then who are they from? Do you not wanna kiss me?"

"No - well, I mean - I - "

Dean had moved on, however. His hands lowered to his jeans, where he began fumbling with the zipper. "How far down do they go?" he muttered curiously.

"Dean - " Cas choked out, but luckily, Sam hurried over just then, practically dying of laughter, to grab his brother's hands.

"Don't take your pants off," he reprimanded Dean.

"But I wanna see how far down they go!" Dean exclaimed. "I wanna know where he's been kissing me!"

"I already told you, they're not from me," Cas growled, still trying to get his heart under control.

"So you don't wanna kiss me?" Dean repeated, his emerald green eyes turning up to meet Cas's. The breath hitched in Cas's throat.

"It's not that - "

"So kiss me," Dean drawled, leaning into Cas. His lips were just inches away, Cas could see nothing but him. A thick layer of silence fell over them. The angel was sure Dean could hear his heart, it was pounding so loudly.

"Okay, it's off to bed for you," Sam decided, swooping in and tugging Dean away. As he hurried him off, he turned around and explained to a bewildered Cas, "That's something you should do while...you know. One of you isn't high."

He was right, but it took Cas a while to get over his initial anger at the moment being taken away.

He was elated about one thing, however - Dean wanted to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all might hate me...but I don't even actually watch "Supernatural" anymore...I finally gave up bc honestly hope for Destiel was the one thing that was finally keeping me dedicated and since I'm pretty sure it's not going to happen anytime soon, I gave up. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing fanfic, though!!


End file.
